


Burns All The Way Down

by BeautyGraceOuterSpace



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Bones needs a hug, Depression, First New Year's after his divorce, Gen, Grieving, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Post Divorce, Pre-Trek
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-01
Updated: 2019-01-01
Packaged: 2019-10-02 01:13:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 418
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17254847
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BeautyGraceOuterSpace/pseuds/BeautyGraceOuterSpace
Summary: He swirled the amber liquid in his glass, the indentations of the carved crystal catching the dull light the leaked through the blinds from the streetlamp outside the window and sending it through the waves in streaks and flecks. Happy fuckin' new year.





	Burns All The Way Down

He swirled the amber liquid in his glass, the indentations of the carved crystal catching the dull light the leaked through the blinds from the streetlamp outside the window and sending it through the waves in streaks and flecks. Slouched as he was in the ratty armchair, he had an excellent view of the old clock above the mantel, a remnant from his college years that he had dragged out of storage for use after his move to this shithole of an apartment. The seconds hand caught every time it went past the six, and gave a subtle double tick on each pass.

Only 30 seconds, then– really 29, accounting for the sticking hand– and a new year would begin. A new year in his “new” apartment, with his new life as a newly appointed divorcee with a new schedule during which he could visit his daughter at his ex-wife’s not-new house that she kept in the split.

His chin quivered and his eyes burned. He fought back both with a sharp inhale through his nose, his hand on the glass trembling as he tossed back another sip, sucking on his teeth as it burned it’s way down, too strong and too cheap, bitter and rough. Did the trick, though.

20 seconds. 20 seconds until a new year of doing nothing, of continuing to fuck up his life, a gift that had held “so much promise”. Something he would continue to squander however he damn well pleased. What was the point anyway? No matter how hard he tried, it wasn’t enough. Not enough to save his own father’s life. Not enough to muddle through the guilt he still felt and bother to fix his broken marriage, to be a decent father to his little girl. Not enough to be a shoulder to cry on for his mama, who was devastated by the loss of her husband and now had to mourn as her son distanced himself and lost everything.

10 seconds. 10 seconds until this godforsaken hell of a year would be over and he could… keep doing exactly what he’d been doing since the divorce finalized. Sit in this goddamn chair and drink cheap booze until he finally fell asleep. Wake up, power through a work day– hopefully without any malpractice in the process as his tired hands tried to maintain their stability in spite of everything– lather, rinse, repeat.

5…4…3…2…1.

He tossed back the rest of his drink.

Happy fuckin’ New Year.


End file.
